


Fade Away

by Evee_chan



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Vague Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 11:56:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4563708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evee_chan/pseuds/Evee_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iwaizumi sits through class, wondering if his name would disappear from every single class list and every last shred of his existence is erased from the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fade Away

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to meaniwachan and crossbelladonna on twitter for motivating me to keep going ^_^

It begins with almost unperceivable instances; ones where he unconsciously shouts just a tiny bit louder and wave his arms just a little bit harder. It takes over a week for Iwaizumi to notice his teammates’ eyes sliding over him without pause and the recurring reminders of ‘ _yes I’m still here, let me spike the goddamn ball’_. The frequency of which Iwaizumi’s calls for the ball go unheard increase ever slowly.

That morning, his mom had made breakfast for herself and her husband, completely forgetting about Iwaizumi. It was a terrible way to start the day and by noon, the lump in Iwaizumi’s throat threatens to swallow his words.

_That’s the fourth time this morning I had to shake Kindaichi’s shoulder so he would talk to me…_

The bell rings for lunch and he slowly drags his feet to the courtyard, bento box and package of milk bread in hand. It’s empty when he gets there, and Iwaizumi sits down heavily on a bench. A moment later, Oikawa pops out from around the corner.

“Yahallo, Iwa-chan! You weren’t in the classroom so I came to get you.” Oikawa sings, plopping down next to Iwaizumi and swinging his legs playfully. “Oh! Is that milk bread for me? I’m taking it~” He hums happily as he rips open the packaging, shoving a large piece of bread into his mouth.

“Nee Iwa-chan, what are you doing here anyw--“

Iwaizumi loops his arms around Oikawa’s waist and pulls him close, face burning as he does so. “Just… give me a moment.” He replies, nearly choking on the words.

He receives a pat on the back. “I bet you were lonely huh?”

Iwaizumi hiccups a breath in surprise, almost flinching from Oikawa’s teasing voice.

“D-dumbass!” He says, pulling away to shovel some rice into his mouth. “Hurry up and eat your bread. I know that volleyball is the only thing on your mind but you still have to study for the test next period.”

Oikawa’s smile drops instantly and his lower lip juts out in a pout. “Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan! You have to help me. I can’t do this on my own. It’s _history_ of all things!”

“Fine.” Iwaizumi says, rolling his eyes. “You’re gonna bug me until I say yes anyway.” He leans over, face inches from Oikawa. “I’m gonna need payment you know.” With that, he sinks his teeth into the milk bread in Oikawa’s hands and rips away a large chunk.

“That was too mean Iwa-chan! Give me back my milk bread!” Oikawa cries.

Iwaizumi is already walking away, smirking to himself. For the moment, he forgets about his worries.

***

Chairs clatter as their teacher makes his way to the front desk and the murmurs grow quiet. It’s a day like any other day, dry voice droning on as the old man goes through the roll call list. Iwaizumi snaps to attention when a moment of silence ticks by, and then another. Where words should be, there is a strangely soundless break. An eyebrow twitch, then his name is in the air like an afterthought. Only Oikawa seems to notice.

The tight feeling is back in his chest and Iwaizumi has to shove it aside to respond. “… Here.”

He spends the rest of class barely able to focus, scribbling down nonsensical answers to a test he should have aced and staring out the window instead of listening to the accomplishments of _Eisaku Satou_ or whatever his name was.

Next is English and Iwaizumi is actually somewhat relieved to be forgotten (albeit bitterly). He sits through class, wondering if his name would disappear from every single class list and every last shred of his existence is erased from the world. After an hour of accomplishing absolutely nothing, the only thing he gets is a handout on how to use ‘memory’ in a sentence. Iwaizumi chuckles darkly and shoves the paper into his bag carelessly. He slips out the door quietly the moment the last bell rings.

For the first time ever, he skips practice.

Iwaizumi knows for sure that he’ll get an earful from Oikawa for _missing practice_ of all things when they have a practice match just around the corner, but the swirling thoughts in his mind lead his feet away from the gym. He finds himself taking the train home, staring out of the window once more.

The train jolts, the sky freezes, and the world turns ash gray. Iwaizumi tastes metal and the sharp smell of a hospital on his tongue as he throws his hand out to steady himself.

“…jime….… st… to sho…y… co………ack”

He looks around, terrified, but nobody moves. They’re all frozen in place, some of them sitting stock still while others are stuck mid motion. A chill runs down Iwaizumi’s spine, tingling all the way to his fingertips and his right hand disappears.

_The hell?_

At least from the corner of his eye it appeared as such. When he shifts his eyes, he sees the outside scenery through his hand, silhouette of his fingers translucent against the light.

The world lurches again and passengers resume their daily routine as if nothing had happened, paying no heed to the strange sight of a boy crouching on the floor of the train as he experimentally wiggles his (now solid) fingers in front of his face.

“First I start hearing things, then I start hallucinating…” Iwaizumi mutters to himself, “I’m going crazy…” He picks himself up and for the rest of the train ride, he alternates between staring off into the distance and warily glancing at his hand. Not that anyone notices.

***

“I’m back.”

“…”

“Mom! I’m home.”

“…Mom?”

“Oh, welcome home Hajime! Don’t you have club practice today?” Iwaizumi’s mom asks from the kitchen, back facing him while she stirs away at a pot.

“I felt sick… So I came home early. ‘M still not feeling well so I think I’ll skip dinner tonight.” He replies. Iwaizumi slinks up the stairs slowly, mind churning.

_She’s never taken so long to reply before._

In his room, Iwaizumi shucks off his pants and pulls off his shirt. He throws both articles of clothing onto the back of a chair, too distracted to go to the bathroom and drop them into the laundry hamper there.

“I’m too tired for this shit.” He mumbles, before pulling on the crumpled clothing on his bed and collapsing face first into bed, tugging the blankets around himself.

***

Iwaizumi jerks awake, all sweaty limbs and tangled sheets, to the muted buzz of his phone. Most likely on the floor somewhere… or still in his pants pocket if it hadn’t fallen out when he clumsily kicked them off. Blindly groping around, he finds the familiar corner with the pad of his index finger and slides it close. The second he picks up his phone, the screen light dies.

**5 missed calls**

**9 unread messages**

From: Assikawa୧(๑•́ㅂ•́๑)૭

The first few messages were, as he expected, angry ones asking why he wasn’t at practice.

 

 

 

> _Why weren_ _’_ _t you at_ _practice today?_ _ヽ_ _(#`Д´)_ _ﾉ_ _[5:30 pm]_
> 
> _I bet you were slacking off again weren’t you? [5:35 pm]_
> 
> _If you miss practice again I’ll make you buy milk bread for me for a whole week!_ _( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)[5:37 pm]_

Iwaizumi looks through the more recent texts, and his heart somersaults in his chest.

 

 

 

> _I heard from okaa-chan that you’re sick (((( ;°Д°)))) [7:00 pm]_
> 
> _Only idiots catch colds in the summer haha (*_ _´艸`*) [7:20 pm]_
> 
> _Oh wait it’s not even summer yet oops.. [7:21 pm]_
> 
> _… Iwa-chan? [10:46 pm]_
> 
> _I really hope you didn’t die or get abducted by aliens or something_ _Σ（ﾟдﾟ|||_ _）[11:04 pm]_
> 
> _Talk to meeeee [1:14 am]_

He checks the time. 1:24 am.

_Have I actually slept for that long?_

The last text was sent ten minutes ago. He presses the call button almost automatically and after three rings Oikawa picks up, causing Iwaizumi’s pulse to jump at the thought of having to explain himself.

“Can I come over?” He asks instead.

“Sure I guess. Wanna sleep over?” Oikawa offers nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t been messaging Iwaizumi for the past 8 hours.

“Is your balcony window open?”

“Yea-- wait you’re not gonna use the front door?” Oikawa squeaks out.

“Too lazy for that. See you.”

With a click, Iwaizumi hangs up. He pulls back the curtains and steps onto the little balcony, eyeballing the gap between him and the railing on the other side.

He can make it. Probably.

It’s only a few feet across, but the sight of cement just a few meters below makes Iwaizumi’s feet sweat and stick uncomfortably to the floor. He backs up against the window behind him and makes a running leap, arms pinwheeling as he flies up and over the railing of Oikawa’s balcony. Iwaizumi’s toe catches the edge, causing him to pitch forward with a strangled _“fuck--“_

Oikawa decides to open his window at that moment to see the prone form of Iwaizumi flat on his face and he sputters out a laugh.

“Iwa-chan… the balcony’s dirty… please… don’tmopthefloorwithyourshirt.” He makes out between silent giggles.

The world spins slightly in Iwaizumi’s vision and there’s a pins-and-needles feeling at his fingertips. He cranes his neck up to look at his hands as they lay sprawled out in front of him, and struggles to hold back a groan.

_My damn fingers are gone again._

Clenching his fists, it still _feels_ like they’re there and he closes his eyes, willing his fingers to come back.

“Iwa-chan? Did you fall asleep on me?”

He opens his eyes and glares at his fingers.

_Normal and solid, just like before. It was just a trick of the light… right?_

Iwaizumi stands, knees shaking, and ambles his way into Oikawa’s bedroom.

Oikawa grimaces. “You have dust all over your shirt. You can borrow one of mine for tonight.”

Iwaizumi just grunts in reply, yanking open Oikawa’s drawer and grabbing a shirt. He doesn’t even look, just slips off his own shirt and puts on the clean, laundry (Oikawa) scented fabric.

“Hey… Iwa-chan? I know something’s bothering you. Do you… want to talk about it?”

There are quiet footsteps and Iwaizumi can practically feel the anxiousness radiating off of Oikawa, who stands right behind him.

“Not right now, no.” He replies gruffly. “Go to sleep dumbass, it’s late.”

“Fine. But you’d better tell me soon. I don’t want this to affect your club practice attendance.” Oikawa says, playfully smacking the back of Iwaizumi’s head and then proceeds to crawl into bed first. “C’mon.” He says, patting the empty space next to him.

It’s somewhat cramped, two large teenagers in a bed made for a single person, but neither of them mind. It had been a ritual as a kid, whenever one of them were lonely they’d sneak over to the other’s house and slip into their bed.

Within minutes, Oikawa’s breathing slows and deepens and Iwaizumi stares at the dark shadow in front of him. Iwaizumi scoots closer and brings Oikawa’s head closer so it rests on his shoulder, fluffy brown hair tickling his nose. He still can’t sleep though, even with the comforting, pale green glow of star stickers on the ceiling. He feels a prickling, restless itching right beneath his skin.

“--jime. Hajime.” Oikawa mumbles.

Iwaizumi stiffens, sighing when the brown head of hair nuzzles closer to the crook of his neck.

_Still asleep._

All the tension in his limbs seep away and he’s left exhausted, eyelids fluttering closed.

“Don’t forget me…” Iwaizumi whispers, pleading to his childhood friend obliviously sleeping in his arms. Sleep takes him, full of tires screeching, a burning smell and shattered glass.

***

Iwaizumi starts the day with some strange [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tl3prXBhqUQ) blaring on Oikawa’s phone and he reaches out to slam down on the sleep button.

_Huh?_

_There’s nothing to slam down on._

It didn’t feel like anything, at least. Iwaizumi looks at a hand, and like previously, it’s not there. The emptiness spreads down to his forearm this time, and not even a ghost of his hand is visible. He’s still staring blankly at where his hand used to be, when Oikawa sits up and shuts off his alarm while rubbing blearily at his eyes.

Iwaizumi opens his mouth to say something, but his teeth click shut when Oikawa shuffles out of bed _right where his legs are supposed to be._

Oikawa continues tottering to the bathroom to get ready and doesn’t even bat an eyelash at Iwaizumi’s presence. Iwaizumi struggles to sit up with his intangible limbs, and groans in relief when they begin to flicker back into existence. They’re still in the bizarre state of translucency but at least he can touch things again.

Iwaizumi walks casually out of Oikawa’s bedroom, down the stairs and right past his mother. He doesn’t even bother sneaking back through the balcony, seeing as nobody will notice him in his current state. His body keeps moving and even Iwaizumi doesn’t know (nor care) where his legs will take him, and on he walks.  His eyes light upon a knot covered tree in the distance, one where he and Oikawa used to climb as kids. They used to climb to the thinnest branches they could, and scream out their frustrations. Sometimes angry words, sometimes incoherent cries, every single sound whipped away by the crisp wind.

A screech, a honk.

Belatedly, Iwaizumi realizes that he hadn’t looked to the right when he started crossing the street.

With a gruesome crunch, blue sky fills his vision and his head hits the concrete and he rolls _once, twice._

Head lolling into his shoulder, there’s dark fabric obscuring half his vision and the only thing his broken mind can register is neon alien print. Oikawa’s favorite shirt.

A sickening gurgle claws its way out his throat. He can’t even think anymore, just _blood. Blood. More blood._

A metallic tang fills in the air, red puddles blooming, staining the ground yet choking him at the same time. Like when he fell into the lake, water burning his airways but this time, he can`t escape. There`s no air to reach for. It fills his chest, suffocating him, and he wishes that death would just _take him already._

And then, there`s just dark emptiness.

The brief respite doesn`t last though. Darkness lights up, blindingly bright and pain like a lightning strike explodes at the base of Iwaizumi`s skull.

The pain ebbs and recedes, spreading throughout his body and faint beeping filters its way through the nothingness. The incessant beeping is quick and sharp, and then the pain is blissfully gone.

Tiled ceiling above, heart monitor to the left, tired pale face to the right.

“Hey there.” Iwaizumi croaks.

Arms curl around him, pulling Iwaizumi into a tear-soaked hug. The droplets soak into his hospital gown, warm and wet against his skin and he cards a hand through soft brown hair.

_Softer than I remember._

“C’mon Oikawa, don’t cry. I’m home now.” He murmurs.

Oikawa just cries harder, salty tears cutting tracks down his cheeks as he pulls away. “Iwaizumi Hajime, don’t you **dare** leave me like that ever again got it?” He says, then cups Iwaizumi’s face with both hands.

“What are you--“

“I love you, Hajime.” Oikawa whispers. The words hang in the few inches between their faces, electric.

Before he can respond, Oikawa’s lips are on his. They’re as soft as he imagined, and salty with tears. Beeping in the background escalates. What had been a steady tempo becomes a frenzy of ups and downs and Iwaizumi’s face ignites.

A nurse chooses to burst into the room right then. Eyes wide, she stares at a red-faced Iwaizumi and then grins.

“I’ll go get the doctor and call your family.”

***

The doctor comes in, clipboard in hand and begins asking Iwaizumi a string of questions. What his name is, who the boy sitting next to him is, what day it is, when his birthday is and so on. Iwaizumi doesn’t know what day it is but answers the rest of them. The old man stands and then smiles at him.

“We’d like to keep you here overnight to monitor you just in case anything goes wrong. The few hours after a patient wakes up is a very delicate time.”

He leaves and the door closes with a soft ‘click’.

Oikawa sits, fists on his knees, when he tells Iwaizumi had been in a coma for over a month. Iwaizumi pales and curls his legs up to his chest.

“I felt like I was having a really long dream. I think… barely a week passed in my mind.” Iwaizumi sighs.

Oikawa envelopes Iwaizumi in a hug once more, nuzzling into the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck.

“You felt so far away, lying cold and motionless in a hospital bed. It was all my fault. I didn’t look when I crossed the street and a car was coming straight at me. And you! You were crazy. You pushed me out of the way… there was so much blood _everywhere_. I owe you my life.” His voice cracks and he clings tighter to Iwaizumi.

“You missed the spring tournament you know. Volleyball’s not the same without you there. Plus I let shorty and Kageyama win.” Oikawa murmurs. “The whole time I was wishing you would wake up, and cursing myself.”

“But I’m here now.” Iwaizumi says, then presses a kiss to Oikawa’s cheek. Another one to his jaw, another to his nose and a final one to his trembling lips.

“I’m home and I’ll never leaving you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written something somewhat longer in a while... unbeta'd like usual but thanks for reading! I might write this in Oikawa's POV. Possibly.


End file.
